


Family Ties

by ThisIsMyTruthTellMeYours



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsMyTruthTellMeYours/pseuds/ThisIsMyTruthTellMeYours
Summary: Fred Weasley II is a lonely little boy. All of his father's old toys are meant to be played with by two people. But there's always just him. A glimpse into the lives of the Potters and Weasleys after the second war, before the epilogue.
Kudos: 1





	Family Ties

_**DISCLAIMER:** _ _The ideas are mine, the characters are not._

* * *

Freddy was an explorer.

An embodiment of the Weasley's adventuring nature, the boy often felt compelled to wander away from the others in a never-ending search for new places to explore, even within the boundaries of his family's household. He particularly loved climbing – whether it was the trees in his parents' backyard or the outer walls of his grandparents' home, affectionately nicknamed "The Burrow", it made little difference. What mattered was the climb.

Oddly enough, Freddy had never been much inclined to flying. His father had given him a toy broomstick for his last birthday, much to his mother's exasperation ( _"He's only three years old, George! As if we don't have enough trouble chasing him around as it is_!"), but after a couple of weeks the boy lost interest, and ever since that, the present had been gathering dust in a closet alongside several other long forgotten toys.

Both George and Angelina were slightly disappointed at that. Well, perhaps more than just slightly. His mom might have thought Fred was a tad too young for flying, but she was, after all, a skillful chaser – good enough to have been team captain in her time – and she would have liked the boy to take an interest in the sport when the time came. In fact, she looked forward to teaching him his first loops. But the boy preferred climbing and whatever skills he needed to do that, he was quite capable of learning them by himself. The sky called to him, but he seemed to prefer the feel of cracks in the wall beneath his toes and the presence of rough branches he could grab to pull himself up. Maybe he just wasn't the Quidditch type. Or maybe he lost interest in his father's gift because that poor excuse for a broom would not fly any higher than three or four feet. When he was climbing he could reach so much higher...

It was never too hard to sneak out and explore. Nobody payed much attention to him. His mum was always glancing at his father's face, almost as if she was studying his expression, her mind lost in thoughts of a time that would never come again. His dad was always looking at something else. And, most of the time, there was just the three of them, even if they did live walking distance from almost everyone else in the family.

The weekends, of course, were different. Everybody had lunch at The Burrow, and they stayed therefor the remainder of the Saturday. In fact, Molly and Arthur insisted that the kids spend the night and the following day with them. There was more than enough room, now that all of their sons (and daughter, Ginny always added) had left the house, and they truly missed the excitement. They argued that it would be good for the children to grow up as brothers and sisters. And that it would give their parents some time for themselves – _"I wish someone had thought of that when your father and I were a young couple! Young couples need some time away from the kids, you know? You will thank me someday!"_ Molly insisted in her faithfully held opinion, as Ginny nodded seriously and whispered to Hermione in a corner _"Oh, come on, she just wants more grandchildren! She won't be happy until each of us has seven in a roll, like she did!"_ And although Hermione seemed a bit alarmed by that possibility, the two young women started to laugh uncontrollably, under the suspicious and ever-watchful gaze of Mrs. Molly Weasley.

Freddy listened to it all, even though he didn't understand much. With all the wisdom gathered in his three years of life, the boy sometimes believed his grandmother wanted to keep the kids there so she wouldn't have to do the dishes by herself. She could use magic, of course, but somehow, Molly always had the kids helping in the kitchen.

Teddy and Victoire were the elders, and they were the only ones allowed to use knifes, so they were in charge of piling potatoes for mash and slicing all sorts of other vegetables. Even Victoire could only do that under Teddy's supervision, and Domique was very jealous of that responsibility. The girl was always insisting she was old enough – and smart enough – not to cut off her own fingers along with the carrots, but her grandmother paid little attention to it and assigned the younger girl the task of doing the dishes. She had to stand on a three legged stool, but other than that, Dominique did just fine. Molly and James were the ones who usually helped her, and sometimes they took terms washing, drying and putting everything in the proper closets.

Everybody else helped, in whatever way grandmother Molly saw fit. Louis might be in charge of washing the salad, whilst Rose and Albus Severus took the plates and napkins to the tables in the garden. In any case, their grandmother would always make sure nobody was relaxing while the others are working. Nobody but Lucy, that is, but that was only because she didn't do much anyway, besides sleeping and crying in Percy's arms... Lucky him! Grandmother Molly wouldn't make him work if he had the baby, but all the other grownups had to also help out. George, Ron and Harry were generally in charge of frying things on the grill, while Arthur set up the tables. But they could use magic – if Molly permitted it. She never really enjoyed the prospect of other people casting spells at her food.

Molly might have looked like a plump, kind-hearted witch on the outside, but she was strict as a falcon when it came to educating the little ones – and the not-so-little anymore. She never truly ceased to nag Bill about his hair. The eldest which in the family never missed a thing, and her brown eyes narrowed in suspicion at the smallest sign of mischief.

Somehow, she always suspected Freddy to be up to something, even if he was never to blame. " _Freddy Weasley II, I said no magic! Remember that!_ " she would yell, as if the boy was about to pull a wand from his sleeve. Freddy was always assigned to do something boring, and he often took the first chance he had to escape. Before anyone could notice he was either half-way to the roof, or sniffing through old closets, searching for books he had never seen or strange objects he did not yet know. Whenever he was caught, Grandmama would look at his fingers black with dust and sigh that he reminded her of Bill when he was that old.

Bill was his favorite uncle. Every Saturday, when most of the grownups took the kids to play Quidditch with apples in the orchard nearby, Freddy stayed back at the house, jumped on uncle Bill's lap and begged him for stories of his travels from the time he worked as Curse Breaker for the Goblins. He always looked forward to those stories, even if it was the third or fourth time Bill was telling them. And Bill didn't mind entertaining his adventurous little nephew.

Generally they didn't play until the end of the afternoon, but this time, by 3 PM, Victoire and Dominique already had their gear on. The girls were wearing the new shin and arms guards their Aunt Gabrielle had gotten them, as well as the protective fingerless gloves their mum had ordered from France. Dominique was quite happy, though her elder sister was not at all joyful with the pink stripes on her gear. Louis was laughing his brains out, and he only stopped when Victoire threatened to hit him on the head with her broom.

The little boy ran away, trying to escape his big sister's wrath, and went straight to his aunt Audrey, pulling the sleeves of her robes.

"Aunt Audrey? Aunt Audrey?"

Audrey looked down at her nephew. She and Percy were still at the garden, sitting across one another by one of the tables. They were barely talking. Audrey was leafing through the pages of a magazine. Every now and then she lifted her eyes to glance at her new-born daughter, sleeping in her husband's arms. They were beautiful together.

"Shhh. Louis, you'll wake up your cousin!" Percy warned him in a whispered voice.

"Oh-" the boy exclaimed, and he seemed a bit lost as if he'd forgotten what he came to say.

"What's wrong, Louis?" Aunt Audrey asked.

"Victoire is trying to hit me."

Audrey looked up at the girls a few metres away. They seemed to be struggling to fasten their shin guards now. The witch smiled. She had been a Chaser for Ravenclaw's team back at school, and she remember having trouble with the shin guards herself when she was younger. In fact, most of the Weasleys and Potters had played Quidditch at some point or another in their lives. Ginny had even made pro. And yet, oddly enough, from all of the kids, Victoire, Dominique and Louis were the most excited about the game. The only ones whose parents – both parents – never really cared about Quidditch. _"Charlie was the Quidditch player._ " Bill used to say. _"I was just the geek with the head boy badge_."

"Louis, I'm sure she didn't mean it!" Aunt Audrey said the little boy, running her fingers through his red hair to try and calm him.)

"She did! She did!"

Freddy had always thought Louis was such a crying baby!

"Well, you only have one choice, then, don't you?" Audrey whispered as if she was telling the little boy a secret.

"What?" His eyes popped out as he awaited an answer.

"You'll have to beat her in the game today!"

"YES!" He yelled. Then he glanced at his uncle and covered his mouth with his little hands. Percy reprimanded his wife.

"Audrey!" he whispered, grimly, indicating the baby.

"I'm sorry," she answered laughing.

Louis was whispering and pulling Audrey's sleeves again.

"Aunt Audrey, can we go play now? Please. Please. Please!"

"Well,-" She pondered the idea for a while. It was not like she was doing anything important. "Okay. Go ask your uncle Harry and your uncle Ron. If they say it's okay, we can go."

"THANKS!" The boy yelled once more and ran away to ask the grownups permission.

Audrey looked back at Percy.

"I'm sorry, Percy."

"Never mind, she's still asleep, everything is all right," he looked grim for a while, but then he let it go.

"Do you mind if I- You know-"

"What?" He asked, looking up again. "Oh, you want to go play with them? Sure, love, by all means."

"Are you sure? I feel a little guilty about leaving you alone with the baby, but- I just haven't played in such a long time."

"I understand, Audrey." He smiled. "As long as you're feeling well enough to play, you should go have some fun."

"I've never felt better." She said, standing up and approaching her husband, standing at the back of his chair and massaging his shoulders. "Thanks to you, dear." She leaned in to give him a kiss.

Harry and Ron had agreed to start the game sooner. In a minute, Ron came out to the garden with a bunch of old-looking brooms under his arms just as Angelina and Fleur were gathering the girls, making sure they had all their gear on.

"Look, Aunt Angelina," Dominique called. "Don't I look pretty?"

Victoire rolled her eyes as Aunt Angelina complimented her sisters' looks. She still felt ridiculous in those pink gloves, and she was sure Dominique's interest in Quidditch didn't go much farther than the uniforms. The younger girl didn't play very well, and Victoire believed her sister only acted as if she liked Quidditch because everyone else seemed to enjoy it and she didn't want to be left behind. Their parents had noticed that as well. Dominique really hated when Victoire could do something she couldn't.

A few yards away, just outside the kitchen, Teddy held a Quaffle in his hands and was attempting to convince his Uncle Harry that there was nothing wrong with using the real ball.

"Come on, Uncle Harry!"

"Teddy, I've told you, there are Muggles living near by. We can't take the chance one of the balls will fly away!"

"But the Quaffle _doesn't_ fly!" The boy insisted. "Come on, Uncle Harry, don't you want me to get in the house team next year? I could use the practice!"

"Teddy, I don't know-" Harry seemed confused. "Where's Ginny? Where's George with those apples?"

Freddy watched them from the door as they left for the orchard. He didn't bother waving goodbye. They were too excited to look back, but he didn't mind. He ran inside to look for his Uncle Bill.

Unfortunatelly, Bill was nowhere to be found. By the time Freddy found him, the wizard was on the sundeck, and Aunt Fleur had taken her place at her husband's lap, one of her arms passing behind his shoulders. Her long fingers played with her husband's hair, curling small strands near the back of his neck. Every now and then her fingernails scratched his skin, only slightly, but it was enough to unleash a warm shiver down his spine. Bill pulled his wife closer, tightening the grasp of his hand on her waist, bewitched by the soft floral scent of her perfume. Freddy watched as his uncle touched his wife's chin, pulling her closer for a kiss, but almost as soon as their lips touched, the little boy covered his eyes and ran away. Best not to interrupt grown ups when they were doing... Whatever it was that they were doing.

The house was very silent now. Everybody else seemed to be engaged in their own affairs. From the top of the stairs Freddy watched Aunt Hermione as she read an unusually thin book. After a while, somebody came into the room, and when Hermione realized it was Mr. Weasley she rushed to stand up from his place.

" _Mr. Weasley, I'm sorry-"_

_"Hermione, Hermione, that's fine, stay where you are." He waved a hand, urging her to stay down as he placed a tray with two cups of tea on the coffee table._

_"But this is your chair. Ginny suggested I should try it; she said it was really comfortable, but if you're here-"_

"Never mind that, please. _I made us tea, look. Ron mentioned you have a fondness for black tea, right?"_

_Hermione turned her eyes away as she reached out for one of the cups._

_"I'm surprised he noticed it." There was an unmistakable sad note on her voice._

" _Things are difficult, heh?" He asked, interested._

_Hermione slid back on the armchair, leaning on the back rest. Her back needed the support._

" _I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. Ron is your son, I shouldn't even be talking to you about this. It's just- I'm just tired." She sighed._

" _Of course you are." Mr. Weasley left his cup on the coffee table and reached out to touch Hermione's hand on the chair arm. His hands were warm from holding the tea cup. "And it's okay. Look at me."_

_Hermione looked up. Freddy ducked so she wouldn't see him spying from the top of the stairs._

_"I know Ron can be—slow-witted sometimes." He seemed to have trouble finding the words. "And Merlin knows he's the least sensitive of all the boys." Mr Weasley seemed a bit exasperated. "You just have to try and be patient with him. Sometimes boys don't really know what to do. Even if the two of you have been through this before."_

" _I know that. But I really love him. I jus-" Hermione started crying. "Oh, God, I can't believe I'm crying again."_

" _Shhh. That's okay." Mr Weasley tightened the grasp on her hand. "That's normal, these last weeks have been hard for you."_

_Hermione looked away, in an attempt to hide her tears, but she didn't pull her hand away from Mr. Weasley's grasp._

" _I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It's not even that bad, I just wish Ron had come here to kiss me goodbye before the Quidditch game."_

" _He didn't say goodbye?" Mr. Weasley asked seriously. It was a small thing, but he understood how it might affect his daughter in law. His son should have understood that as well. He was going to have a talk with Ron._

" _No! And I know it's something so small, but- He just left! He doesn't want to be around me!"_

" _Hermione, you know that's not true! Come now, drink some tea."_

_"Thank you. I really don't know why I'm crying."_

_Mr. Weasley smiled._

_"I understand," he said. And he meant it. "I'll have a talk with Ron, about this later. Now, we should talk of something else. Can you keep a secret?"_

_Hermione nodded, still drying her own tears, and looking at her father in law._

" _I met a flying instructor yesterday. I'm thinking about taking flying lessons! But don't tell Molly, please!" He looked around, as if he was checking to see if there was anybody watching._

" _Do you mean flying on-" Hermione started._

" _On an air plane!" Mr Weasley finished her sentence, excitedly._

Freddy walked away. He had already peeked in on his grandfather's conversations with Aunt Hermione about Muggle things, and he knew they'd be at it for hours! Once, not so long ago, Freddy hid into a closet to listen in, and ended trapped for two hours listening to an unending discussion about television channels. He was in no mood for another lecture.

The three year old walked by a window and realized Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny had not gone to the orchard with the others. They stood in the garden, in front of each other, and the tones of their voices suggested they were having an argument. Freddy climbed on a little stool and listened in.

" _I can't believe you were leaving me behind!" Ginny protested._

" _I can't believe you were actually thinking about going!" Harry retorted._

" _Why not?"_

_"Ginny, love, you- You shouldn't- You won't- You can't go riding brooms right now!"_

" _I'm a professional Quidditch player, Mr. younger-seeker-in-a-hundred-years."_

" _I know-"_

" _Look, it's bad enough that I had to take leave from the team! Now you don't want me to play with the kids!"_

" _You want to play?"_

" _No Harry, I want to sit there with you and talk about my bloody feelings! Of course I want to play."_

" _It could be dangerous."_

" _Well, it could be dangerous to hunt Dark Wizards for a living but you don't see me holding you by your heels every morning to stop you from going to work, do you?"_

" _That's different!"_

" _How so? Because you're a man?"_

" _No, because you are- you know, because of your condition!"_

" _MY WHAT?" Ginny yelled. "You think I'm sick? Do you think this is me, being fat, ugly and sick, is that it?"_

_She was really angry now. Her ears were flaming red. Harry was not happy either, but the young man was more worried than he was angry._

" _Listen, don't get angry, Ginny. That can't be good for the-"_

" _What? Now I can't be angry! Now you're gonna tell me what to feel? This is so-" She couldn't finish her sentence. They had been arguing for so long she was beginning to feel a little tired, and slightly out of breath. But she worked as hard as she could to hide it from Harry._

_Her young husband didn't notice her physical discomfort, but he must have noticed something because he stepped closer and embraced his wife, pulling her closer. Then he leaned down his head so that their foreheads touched._

" _I just worry about you."_

" _Harry, they play with apples! It's not like there'll be Bludgers there!"_

" _But something might happen. Please promise you won't fly today."_

_"I won't, it's not fair! Everyone else gets to play!"_

_Harry looked her in the eye for a few seconds. It would appear he was making a tough decision. Then he finally spoke._

" _Look. I'll stay here with you if that's what it's all about. I won't play either."_

_Ginny couldn't believe. There he was talking of her staying in the house again._

" _Fine." She said, stepping away from him. "You stay here, I'll go check the game." The witch turned her back and started walking decisively towards the orchard._

" _WAIT!" Harry called. She stopped walking. He sighed defeated. "Ginny, love, do you- Do you mind if I hold your hand as we walk to the game?" he asked, humbly._

_An imperceptible smile appeared on the corner of Ginny's lips and the young witch offered her hand to her husband. Harry reached her and they resumed their walk towards the orchard._

Freddy watched them as they disappeared behind the tall trees. Nobody seemed to be missing him very much, which meant the boy was free to do what he did best. He could climb.

Freddy opened the window and used the stool to climb over the windowsill. From there it was not difficult at all to reach for the cracks in the wall and start making his way up to the ceiling. He passed by an open window in the third floor and got a glance of the room the girls shared whenever they spent the night. There were two sets of bunk beds in the farthest corner, with the girls' names magically carved in each of their head boards. The wallpapers and the sheets, everything had the colours of the Holyhead Harpies, undoubtedly a contribution of Aunt Ginny to the decoration. There was also a full body mirror attached to the door. It shouted fashion tips to whoever stared at it for long enough, and it startled Freddy when it shouted at him, across the glass: _"Purple is ze colour of ze last season! Go change!"_ It's French accent suggested it might have been a present from Fleur.

Victoire, Dominique, Molly and Rose never allowed the boys inside, so that was kind of exciting. He tried to open the window but it was locked from the inside. Bad luck. Well, there was nothing there to pique his interest anyway. Perhaps the girls were all embarrassed about that stupid mirror.

Freddy continued on his climb. He passed by the window of the room Teddy shared with James on the fifth floor and glanced at the large pile of dirty socks over James' bed. Teddy had been complaining about James' messiness for weeks now, threatening to kick him out of the room if he didn't start cleaning up after himself. James pretend to be worried for a while, but that was it. There were comic books scattered all over the room, wet towels over the beds and dungbombs carelessly thrown under the beds, threatening to explode at any minute! Not to mention the pile of dirty socks, which kept getting bigger. That window was open, in a feeble attempt to make the air more breathable inside. Freddy didn't dare jump in.

He intended to go up to the roof, but just before he got to his final destination, Freddy saw a small window above the boy's room. As far as he knew the house was not supposed to have a sixth floor, so kicked the window opened. It was unlocked. There was an attic there.

Freddy couldn't resist the temptation of walking in. He sneezed. The place was full of dust, not to mention pieces of broken pipes scattered all over the floor, almost as if someone had been throwing them around for fun. Other than that, the attic was filled with cardboard boxes, marked with names he knew all too well. Ron. Bill. Charlie. These were the belongings of his uncles, things which had been brought here to open space in the rooms below.

And there they were, by the trapdoor which must open to the corridor of the fifth floor although he had never noticed it before. Several boxes marked with the name: "George". Freddy had some exploring to do.

It took more than a couple of hours for someone to find him there. Freddy didn't even realize how long it had been when the hatch opened and somebody climbed the dusty stairs to the attic. Somebody with spiked blue hair. Teddy.

"Freddy?" the older boy asked, looking around to find his little cousin. He found Freddy sitting in a corner, by some shelves filled with books. There was a heavy volume on Freddy's lap, and a few piles of books around him, made with the books he'd taken from the shelves. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Freddy asked, "I thought you were supposed to be at Quidditch!"

"I was! We had to come back running! Didn't you see?"

"Didn't I see what?"

Teddy rolled his eyes and walked to the window, pulling the curtains away so Freddy could see the stormy weather outside.

"It started raining out of the blue! We got back as fast as we could! You should have been there, it was so fun!" Teddy's hair seem to grow an inch and a half on account of the excitement of the moment. "Aunt Audrey wanted to cast imper- imper- impermeability spells on all of us, but we ran away before she could do anything!"

"What's imper- imper- imperbility?"

"It's a spell so that you don't get wet!" Teddy explained! "But she couldn't reach us! I was the fastest! James and Louis tripped and fell, face-plant on the mud! They're disgusting right now! Your grandmother is forcing them into the shower! Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny were the last to get home! Uncle Harry looked ridiculous holding his cape above their heads, and they were running so, so funny!"

"Why didn't they use the imbilility?"

"I don't know! Anyway, Uncle Ron went back for them with an umbrella, while Aunt Hermione dried our clothes with her wand! But I was still able to meet Uncle Harry at the door and mock him about being the last one here!"

"What did he do?"

"Well, nothing at first- But maybe that's because Aunt Hermione pulled me away and he didn't hear it. But later he came after me! I ran to our room to hide, but then I heard something up here and thought I'd come and check to see if the ghoul was back."

"The what?"

"The ghoul! There used to be a ghoul living here a few years ago. Didn't you know?"

"What's a ghoul?" Freddy asked, naively.

Teddy's eyes narrowed when he realized he had an opportunity here.

"What's a ghoul? Are you telling me you've never heard of a ghoul before?"

Freddy shook his head.

"A ghoul is a terrible creature! They are immortal and impossible to kill!"

"Why would they want to kill one?" Freddy asked, cringing against the wall.

"Because they kill people!"

Freddy's eyes popped out.

"Yes, they drink people's blood! They have huge claws on their fingers and toes and that's how they-"

Freddy was obviously scared right now. The little boy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and dropped the book he was holding. His hands were shaking.

"And the ghoul lived here? And he's back?"

 _Damn._ Teddy thought. He couldn't do this. It was so easy for James, James could tell all sorts of stories to scare people. Teddy had seen Albus ran away scared more than a few times already... But apparently Teddy lacked his cousin's talent for horror pranks.

"No, Freddy, he's not back. He's not back."

Freddy was still not sure.

"I heard a noise, that's all, but you're the one who made the noise, right?"

Freddy started to calm down.

"Yes- I dropped a book." He pointed at a heavy copy of an old Potions manual.

"That's a lot of books." Teddy said, running his fingers through his hair once more. "Hey, what's that?" He looked around and his eyes stumbled upon the boxes in the farthest wall. Freddy had opened the ones marked with his father's name and dropped their contents on the floor to examine it. He never bothered putting it all back.

Teddy walked towards the boxes and started examining those toys. They were all toys. George's toys. Chess pieces which tasted like candy but hit your teeth with violent blows once you placed them in your mouth; colourful sets of gobstones; all sorts of card games: cards that you taught to play as you played them and spied on your enemy's hands when they were distracted by the weird dance of the Jack of Hearts.

"Freddy, did you see these things? These are amazing! What are you doing next to those books!" he asked perplexed.

Freddy looked away. He had seen them. He had seen it all. He just- couldn't play with them.

"Freddy?" Teddy asked, dropping a box of Deluxe Deflagration on the floor.

"I saw it- it's just-"

"What?"

"All of my father's toys are meant to be played with by two people," he said finally. "And there's always just me."

Teddy watched his cousin as the little boy picked up the book and stared at the page. Of course George's toy's were meant for two. Teddy remembered his godfather telling him about George's twin brother, Fred. The one that died in the War, the same way Teddy's parents did.

The young Lupin's hair turned brown as he walked towards his little cousin and kneeled down so Freddy wouldn't have to look up at him. The little boy was still very interested in his book. No company needed for that.

"Freddy?" Teddy asked. "Can you even read these books?"

"Well, no," Freddy answered, embrassed. "But I can understand the story by looking at the pictures." He shrugged.

Teddy took a seat next to his little cousin.

"Well, I can read," he stated. Hermione had taught him how to read when he was around four or five. "Do you want me to read it for you?" he offered.

"People can't read for somebody else, Teddy!"

"Of course they can!"

"How?"

"Do you mean nobody has ever read you a bed time story?"

"No!"

"Give the book to me!"

Freddy considered it for a while before handing Teddy the book. Teddy tapped the floor by his side, inviting Freddy to get closer. The little boy sat next to him and laid his head on Teddy's chest. The ten year old was not prepared for that, but he felt it was best not to move too much. After a while he passed his arm behind Freddy's shoulders and realized he didn't mind his little cousin being there. Perhaps this was what Mister Weasley meant when he said they had to take care of each other. Even if there wasn't a war going on anymore, and if their lives were not in any immediate danger. They still had to stick together.

"Once upon a time-" he started, and he felt Freddy's right hand grabbing his shirt, crumpling it between his fingers. "Once upon a time, in a faraway land-"


End file.
